


SNAFU: Circa City of Bones

by AliceStoneheart



Series: Stage Name: Alec Fray Universe (aka SNAFU) [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, College, F/F, F/M, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Malec
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceStoneheart/pseuds/AliceStoneheart
Summary: Tales of Alec Fray set during City of BonesStarring: Shakespeare's Perfect Idiot(s), A Hot Warlock, An Idrisian Villain (& Sons), The Nerdy Comic Relief, A Moody Artistic Teen, A Femme Fatale.Cameos By: Canonical Background Characters Most Fans Don't Know Or Care About Because They Watch The TV Show.Created & Owned By: A Really Famous Author.Fanfiction Written By: A Broke College Student.





	1. In the Beginning

* * *

On Valentine's insistence, they left the children with Jocelyn's parents when they went to the Accords Hall to carry out the Circle's plan. Alexander had been crying when he was taken from his father's arms and deposited in Jonathan's crib by Granville Fairchild.

Held tenderly by his grandmother, Adele, Jocelyn's firstborn Jonathan, did not cry at all, dark eyes alert and unblinking in the early morning sun. His mother was nowhere to be found, his father marshaling his soldier-friends.

When the Uprising happened, Valentine abandoned his most loyal lieutenants to fight for a cause he'd stopped caring for. Hilariously outnumbered, they were forced to die fighting or surrender. The Lightwoods surrendered. And when they, these soldier-friends of Valentine returned, in chains for their transgressions, the Fairchild manor was burning.

Maryse Lightwood ran towards the house, screaming her son's name as Robert caught up to her and held her back. The flames burned fiercely, consuming everything in sight. Everything, from the opulent manor itself, to the stables with the horses neighing in alarm, to the apple trees in the gardens when the fire spread, was destroyed. Valentine's final revenge against his once most loyal lieutenants, who betrayed him and laid down their weapons in front of the Clave, was complete. In death, he took with him their son, his own son and Jocelyn's parents.

Or so they thought.

* * *

 


	2. Cause and Affect

* * *

When Clary was six, Alec was eight. They had just moved to a new neighbourhood in Brooklyn and Clary hated it. Alec did too, but he wouldn't say anything because Jocelyn had just looked so _exhausted_ with the move that he felt awful just thinking about kicking up a fuss.

The next day, a little boy with wavy brown hair and big brown eyes was being taken to school by his mother from the house next door, and that boy was Simon. Rebecca, Simon's sister (as they found out five minutes later), had just caught the flu that morning.

Jocelyn had volunteered to take Simon to school with them for the rest of the week and Elaine had been so grateful she'd almost cried. A couple of weeks later, she had invited the Frays over for Hanukkah and from that day onwards, Clary and Simon were practically inseparable.

* * *

When Clary was nine, Alec was eleven. It was Alec's last year in the same school as her and Clary hated it. Alec was smart, all the teachers said. They shouldn't keep him in middle school when he was capable of so much more.

Alec had something that was called a really high IQ - Clary forgot the number by the time the principal had finished explaining things to her mom. But it meant that she and Alec wouldn't be together in school ever again and it did not make her in the least bit happy.

On the last day of school that year, Alec made Simon promise to take care of Clary. When Clary protested (loudly) that she could take care of herself, Rebecca made her promise to take care of Simon, too. They pinky swore and the next day, all four of them were signed up for Capoeira classes offered by a Brazilian student at NYU named Leticia.

* * *

When Clary was twelve, Alec was fourteen. Now, Alec and Rebecca would drop their little siblings off at middle school every morning and go on to St. Xavier's. Alec was out of the closet, at least at home, and very much on his way to becoming the intelligent young man all the teachers said he'd be.

Leticia had gone back to Brazil, having taught Alec how to swear quite violently in Portuguese, much to Jocelyn's chagrin and the horror of his Spanish teacher at St. Xaviers.

Alec was also taller than their mother; _much_ taller, and people always assumed he was sixteen or even seventeen, because he was in high school, just two years away from graduating. Girls in Clary's class giggled when Alec would come to pick her and Simon up from school and they'd be nice to her the next day, as if that meant she would introduce him to them. She had ignored them quite imperiously, of course, Alec was _her_ big brother, after all. Simon had sometimes been nice to them, though, much to Clary's displeasure.

Before Alec had come out, Clary had wanted him to marry Rebecca when they grew up. Oh, well. Maybe Alec could just marry Simon instead, she'd thought nonchalantly.

* * *

When Clary was fifteen, Alec was seventeen, taller, broader, more confident and in his second year at NYU on a scholarship. He would give his mother and sister and Simon and Elaine (Rebecca was in college in New Jersey) tickets to the plays he had parts in.

Clary remembered one of Alec's friends from uni - a dark-haired, brown-skinned girl with dark, flinty-gray eyes, shorter than Clary herself - asking Alec in slightly accented English why he'd almost turned down the lead role in _The Glass Menagerie_ by Tennessee Williams and Alec replying that it was for personal reasons.

Later, after the production (which featured a single mother and her son and daughter and was set in the mid-20th Century), Alec had come and given his distraught mother a warm hug and said, "That's not us. I'm not Tom and you're not Amanda. You're nothing like her. You've always supported me. I'm here because of you and I love you, Mom."

And Jocelyn Fray had cried for the first time they remembered.

* * *

When Clary turned sixteen and Alec was a couple of weeks away from eighteen, he lay dying in the infirmary of the New York Institute, demon venom pulsing through his veins. As she cried over him hysterically and begged Simon, Jace, Izzy, _anyone_ to _do_ something, to save her brother because she couldn't fucking _live_ without him, she realised what the world would be losing if it lost Alec. A beautiful soul, a kind brother, a loving son, a dear friend, a dedicated student, a fantastic actor.

She remembered the tickets to his plays, tucked away in her sketchbooks, she remembered the smell of Alec's homemade chocolate-cinnamon brownies and of the ink of his recipe books. She remembered Alec, how he used to sweep her up into the air in his strong arms and spin her around when she was four, she remembered the beautiful calligraphy pens she'd found wrapped in shiny gold paper that Alec had hidden in her room, a gift for her sweet sixteenth - _Love, Alec_ , the card said - when she and Jace had been searching for the Mortal Cup.

Simon was beside himself with guilt because it was him that Alec threw himself in front of, it was for Simon whom Alec was bleeding into the white sheets of the hospital bed, his back arching up in agony, his mouth open in horrible, terrifyingly piercing screams that neither he nor Clary could have ever imagined Alec screaming.

Clary cried into Simon's shoulder. She cried helplessly as Isabelle drew _iratze_ after _iratze_ , but they just melted into his skin. She cried as Jace left to find Hodge but didn't come back, and she cried as Magnus Bane, the warlock who'd messed with her memory came running into the infirmary and threw them all out so he could heal her brother in peace.

And she cursed herself because this was _all her fault._ Alec was dying and it was her fault and all she could bloody well _do_ was cry. What a useless shadowhunter she was, she thought, curling up in a ball outside the infirmary door with Simon hovering over her, distraught with worry.


	3. The (Not So) Sweet Sixteen

Clary's sixteenth birthday was supposed to be fun. Alec did not find going to a poetry slam fun. But Clary, self-sacrificing angel that she was, decided to indulge Simon's bandmate Eric (or was it Kirk? He could never tell the difference and didn't particularly care enough to start now). And being the older brother, Alec had been charged with bringing Clary home to their mother in one piece, come hell or high water. Alec just never imagined that damnation would come in the form of insufferably bad poetry featuring the poet's 'nefarious loins'.

"Is he done yet?" he whispered.

Clary gave him a scathing look and shushed him. Simon looked enraptured by the performance, well, it was either that, or he was constipated. Alec preferred to go with the former.

Five minutes later, the torment was (mercifully) over and they were heading back to the Fray's apartment in Brooklyn. Clary, being Clary, was begging Alec to take them to Pandemonium, the all ages club that he liked to frequent. Alec, being Alec and a total sucker for Clary's big, pleading green eyes, agreed.

* * *

When they got to Pandemonium, they didn't bother with the line. Alec sauntered to the front with his little sister and her bestie in tow and smiled at the bouncer who was arguing with some guy with blue hair. The bouncer smirked back at Alec, the kind of smirk that you gave someone you'd slept with. Alec gave the blue-haired guy and appreciative glance and whispered something in the bouncer's ear.

Clary looked a bit disillusioned by the time they got into the club. The blue-haired boy was standing a little apart from them. He looked like he was undressing Alec with his eyes. Alec didn't seem to mind.

"You think he's cute, don't you?" Simon asked Clary.

She turned the slightest bit red which, combined with her red hair, made her look like a hairy tomato. Or a cherry. "The boy with blue hair? Yeah, sure, and so does Alec," she said casually.

Simon sputtered.

Alec who was barely paying attention to what they were saying, looked like he wanted to drag Blue Hair into a corner of the club and have sex. Clary snapped a finger under his nose. Alec's dark blue eyes instantly went from the beginnings of lust to annoyance as she pestered him to get them drinks.

"Absolutely not," Alec said, momentarily distracted from the hot guy. While he was lecturing them about the dangers of alcoholism, Clary saw the boy get lured away by the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen. Her hair was inky black, like Alec's, and she had the same confidence and elegance that Clary's older brother did. Once again, Clary was reminded that despite being siblings, she and Alec barely looked alike.

With a 'come hither' look on her face, the girl led the blue haired boy to one of the 'off-limits' areas of the club and when Clary saw the fair-haired boy following them with a knife in his hand, she did the Clary thing to do. She followed as well, momentarily (and rather conveniently) forgetting about her companions.

* * *

"Si," Alec said calmly when he was done with his preaching. "Where's Clary?"

Simon looked up from the ground which he'd been uncomfortably staring at. His head whipped around almost comically. When they finally spotted Clary minutes later, she was heading back to them, cheeks flushed from exertion.

"Alec," she gasped. "They killed him."

"Clary, what-"

"The blue-haired boy!" she squeaked "They killed him!"

"Clary, did someone give you something to drink?" Alec asked, concerned.

"You're not listening to me, there was a girl and she took the blue-haired guy to that room over there and a blond boy went in after them and he had a knife or something-"

"And you followed them?" Alec demanded, speed walking to place Clary pointed out. "Simon, go get security. Clary, stay right here and don't move until Simon gets back."

He reached the door and pushed it open. There was nothing there. "There's no body," he said to Clary, who was right behind him despite his instructions. "And I thought I told you to stay outside."

"But Alec! Can't you see him? He's right there!"

"Who?" Alec asked, walking forward boldly. The door closed behind them. There was a strange flickering in the shadows for a moment and then he saw him materialise out of thin air. The golden boy covered in blood and ink.

Alec pushed Clary behind him so fast she had to grab onto the back of his shirt to stop herself from toppling over.

"Alec... are you...?"

"Yeah," Alec said, his voice quiet. "I'm seeing it."

The two boys stared at each other for a moment. "Who are you? Alec asked the blond.

"Not important," Blondie said cockily. "The real question is, who are you?"

A cry of pain came from Clary. Alec whirled around to see something wrapped around his sister's wrist, dragging her away from him. He caught hold of the rope - was that metal? - and pulled. A girl in a white dress fell out of the shadows.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alec said, trying to uncoil the whip from around Clary's wrist.

"Jace, they're mundanes. Why can they see us?" The girl who spoke was extremely pretty, dark-haired, dark-eyed, tall and slim as a willow branch.

The blonde boy - Jace - walked forward slowly. "Are they, though?"

"Listen, asshole," Alec said, putting a protective arm firmly around Clary's shoulders. "We don't know what you've been smoking, but we don't want any part of it. This was obviously a huge misunderstanding."

"We can't just let them go," the dark-haired girl said. "Hodge -"

At that precise moment, the door opened. Simon poked his curly head in. "Guys?" He said, pushing it further to show them the bouncer Alec had smiled at earlier. "Everything all right in here?"

Alec blinked. The whip slithered away from Clary's hand to curl around the dark haired girl's.

"They can't see us," Jace said. "I suggest you say that the little girl was mistaken and leave quietly." There was no indication that Simon or the bouncer had heard him.

Clary was shaking. "They're not here, I'm sorry, I think by the time we got back here, they escaped."

"Your friend said you saw them kill someone," the bouncer mused. "I hope you weren't lying kid, or I'd have to ban you. Your brother, too, and wouldn't that be a shame?" his eyes raked up Alec's body. "He's such a _valued_ patron here at Pandemonium."

"There's no blood or body," Alec said, studiously ignoring him. "Whatever happened here, they cleaned up really well. Is there a history of gang violence or something here?"

"Not that I know of, Blue Eyes," came the swift reply, "and I know most of what happens in this club."

The dark-haired girl snickered. Alec glared at her and then looked at Jace contemplatively.

"I'm taking my sister home." Alec said finally, steering Clary towards the door.

"Will do. Unless you're going to call the cops," the bouncer added dubiously.

Alec placated him with a, "Nah, if it is some kind of gang war, the last thing we want is to draw attention to ourselves."

"Good point."

Alec caught hold of Simon's collar with his free hand for a moment and pushed him out the door. "Come on, Simon. Let's go," he said, and released the fabric before guiding Clary through after them.

"What was that all about?" Simon asked, looking back into the empty room.

"Tell you later," Clary took his hand and dragged him along with her and Alec.


	4. What Happens When Rehearsals Go On Too Late

The director had been running them ragged for weeks, now, getting the script ready, the casting done and the rehearsal timings finalized for the performance in the beginning of October. Set design had barely started, costumes hadn't even been looked at, everything was very rudimentary, and it seemed like they would never be ready for opening night. To top it all off, the apartment was a fiasco when Alec got back from rehearsals, which wasn't all that unusual, but this time it was messy enough to make him stop in his tracks.

"What the... Mom?" He called out cautiously. "Clary?"

A weird black goo was contracting into itself in the middle of the living room right next to the couch, that was in bits and pieces. A curtain of red hair was splayed across the floor.

"Oh my go- CLARY!" He exclaimed, running up to his unconscious sister, kneeling beside her fallen form and then pulling her onto his lap. Alec tapped the side of her cheek gently. "Clary, wake up," he begged desperately.

She was breathing so shallowly he was sure she would stop any moment.

He felt blood on his hand and withdrew it from behind her neck. He felt his heart stop. Hospital. He needed to get her medical attention, pronto. Alec quickly lifted her small body up in is arms and was just about to exit the apartment when a gold and black blur got in his way.

"You!" Alec snarled, recognising him instantly from Pandemonium. If he hadn't been carrying Clary, he would have introduced the boy to one of his punches, or even better, one of his kicks.

"I got here as fast as I could, I didn't know the demons would come after you guys like this - " Jace started.

"What the fuck are you talking about? You know what, I don't care. Unless you're the one who did this to her because so help me god if you did you'd better be gone by the time I get back," he snarled, roughly shouldering Jace out of the way.

"Woah, listen up, dude, I'm here to help," Jace said defensively.

"Help?" Alec half-shouted, carrying Clary down the stairs. "I need to get her to a _hospital_. She has a neck injury. As in, she's bleeding. From her neck. Do you know how dangerous neck injuries can be?" he demanded.

Jace made a sound of exasperation. "A hospital won't know how to - this is a demon bite." Jace said, pushing her head forward to bare the back of her neck, ignoring Alec's cry of alarm and letting him leap away in caution. "We need to get her to the Institute."

"Listen up, buddy, I don't have time for you're cultist mumbo-jumbo right now, my sister-"

"- will die if you don't listen to me, you hard-headed idiot!" Jace cut him off. "She's dying! From demon venom! I mean, come on, she must have told you what she saw at the club."

"She was hallucinating," Alec snapped impatiently.

"Oh, were you hallucinating too? Are you hallucinating me right now? Trust me, I'm too good-looking to come from anyone's imagination."

Alec had the distinctive urge to punch the narcissistic asshat in the face, but his arms were carrying his sister out the door. A police car pulled up in front of the brownstone. He sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god, Officer. One of the neighbours must have called you. I need to get my sister to the hospital now, she's been attacked-"

The policeman snarled. Alec stumbled backward, barely keeping a hold on Clary as Jace practically flew forward and stabbed the cop in the abdomen with a glowing sword. As Jace yanked out his sword, the policeman exploded into black goo - which looked exactly like the one that was in the apartment upstairs.

"Holy crap," Alec said weakly as Jace finished off the other cop / demonic creature.

"Believe me now?" Jace asked, wiping his blade on the grass.

"You just killed a _cop,_ " Alec said, appalled.

Jace rolled his eyes. "That wasn't a cop."

* * *

Two days later, Alec hovered protectively over Clary, who still lay unconscious in a bed in an abandoned church that looked like a medieval castle on the inside. Simon had taken over the hovering by the time Alec came back from his shower in the evening on Day 2.

"How is she?" he asked.

Simon shook his head, grasping Clary's hand firmly. "Nothing. Why are we even here, Alec? We should take her to the hospital. That guy who welcomed me to this place popped in earlier and muttered about some shtick that sounded like freaking voodoo. I don't think it's safe for her to be here with a bunch of wackjobs blabbering about angels and demons."

Alec rolled his eyes tiredly. "Stop panicking. These people aren't crazy, clearly they're the only ones who know what's going on. I'm not saying we should trust them, but after what I saw... I don't think we have a choice," he paused for a long moment. "You know, you're a good guy, Simon. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Even if it's not Clary. "

Simon dropped Clary's hand. "Wow, wait a minute, what? I did NOT say th-"

Alec patted him on the head as he took a seat next to Clary as well. "Someday, Simon, my sister is going to realise that you've had the hots for her since the two of you met and she'll date you. I can't imagine her not feeling the same way. Also, you're the only guy I'll ever give the stamp of approval to."

"I don't - " Simon began again, but Alec gave him a knowing look and said, "Right, I might be talking about another six year old with puppy dog eyes who use to trail after Clary in first grade."

Simon sighed. 


	5. Plato and Tchaikovsky

"You don't think I'm a slut." Isabelle stated simply, as if it was a normal observation, taking off her heels, stretching out her long, slim legs and flexing her toes, grunting in relief as the muscles in her feet felt the freedom of no longer being squished.

"Of course not," Alec said, snapping the Shadowhunter's Codex shut and setting it down on the table. He was curled up in Hodge's favourite armchair, still sipping from the mug of hot chocolate she'd seen him making before she'd left. It must have been stone-cold by then.

"Kick whichever asshole who called you that in the balls," he suggested. "Nobody should be slut-shamed, no matter who or how many they sleep with. Ever. I'd slaughter anyone who dared to say anything like that to Clary."

"Where _is_ Clary?" Isabelle asked, dropping the subject and her heels on the ground, subsequently sinking into the chair across from Alec.

"Asleep. How was your evening with the hot faerie boyfriend?" he countered.

"Adequate," she said with a half-smile.

He raised an eyebrow. "Just adequate? I hope you gave him pointers."

Isabelle laughed. "You know what? I think I like you."

"Don't like me too much, Isabelle. I'm gay as a pride parade."

"Oh, I saw one last year when Jace and I were chasing down some shax demons," she said delightedly. "That's very specific," she noted, frowning slightly.

Alec grinned. "It is, isn't it?"

He had a nice smile, Isabelle thought, kind and honest and a little bit sweet. And his eyes were very blue, even bluer than her father's. He looked a little like her father. Maybe he and Clary were descendants of shadowhunters - maybe even Lightwoods - and that's why they had the Sight.

She told him so.

"We would be cousins, then," Alec mused and eventually curiously asked, "What's it like to be a Shadowhunter?"

Isabelle pondered the question for a brief moment. "It's like being a soldier," she said finally. "Your siblings are your comrades-in-arms, they fight by your side. Your parents are also your commanding officers - I think that's what mundanes call it - first and your parents, second. We're governed by the Clave and Council. There's no time for the arts, like drawing for pleasure like Clary prefers or drama and a life on the stage like you do."

"Who told you - no, wait, Clary, obviously." Alec interjected.

"She really loves you, you know, that sister of yours. The girl would tear the world to shreds for you." Isabelle almost sounded impressed.

"I'd do the same for her. I'd walk through fire, I'd raze whatever got in my way. I think that's what it means to be the older sibling," Alec told her.

She gave him a knowing look. "I've got a younger brother, you know," Isabelle provided. "His name is Maxwell but he hates it, so everyone just calls him 'Max'. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost him."

Alec shushed her. "Bad thoughts prelude bad luck," he said.

"Who told you that?" Isabelle inquired.

"My best friend," he said. "Who just happens to be a fellow student of theatre and a lover of art. She'd be quite appalled at the thought of a people without the arts. Despises Plato's tenth volume of 'The Republic,' with a burning passion, actually."

"What's Plato?"

Alec paused. "Don't take this the wrong way, but don't Shadowhunters study philosophy?"

Isabelle sighed. "Alec, we're half-angel warriors. We study the art of war. Our nursery rhymes are hymns to banish demons and our bedtime stories are tales of our origin and the greatest shadowhunters over the ages. We're taught from birth that we have one purpose in life: to protect humans, kill demons and police the Downworlders. It's who we are. It's all we have. Philosophy... it's more of a hobby, and not many shadowhunters have time for hobbies."

"That sounds awful." Alec took another sip of hot chocolate. "And it's three purposes."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "It's not all bad. At least we aren't a sciety completely devoid of love. Love might come second to the cause, but when a shadowhunter loves someone, it doesn't matter if it's agape, eros or philia, it's a love that lasts."

Alec looked thoughtful. "Your parents must really love each other, then. I guess you're lucky in that sense, you grew up with both parents. Not that I ever felt like something was missing in my life, my mom wa - is the best mother I could ask for," he said quickly. "She raised Clary and I after our father died and made sure we had everything we needed. I'm the person I am today because of her."

"That's nice. Not your father dying, that's horrible, but that you had your mom." Isabelle said wistfully. "She sounds... like a good woman."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But I sometimes wish my dad had lived," he replied just as wistfully.

"Do you remember him at all?" she asked.

Alec paused, his mug halfway to his lips. "Nah. Well, sometimes I get these impressions, but nothing really substantial. He was a soldier, died at war months before Clary was born, I don't even think I was two when he passed. His name was Jonathan Clark."

"Jonathan, huh?" Isabelle mused. "That's a very popular shadowhunter name."

"Oh, right. I know, he was the first one," Alec said, tapping the codex with a slim finger.

Isabelle said, "Jace is named after him."

"He is?"

"It stands for Jonathan Christopher. J.C. Jace," she explained.

"Huh." Alec said, with an air of mild interest. "Speaking of Jace, doesn't he play the piano? Clary said something about running into him last night."

"She did, did she?" Isabelle raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

Alec glowered.

Her suggestive smile instantly vanished. "In all seriousness, we are encouraged to learn a musical instrument when we're younger. You can't really fight until a certain age, and before that, children need something to teach them discipline, concentration, dedication. Etcetera."

"Ugh," Alec said. "Wow. They even suck the fun out of music. What instrument do you play?" He asked.

"The violin."

"Oh, dear god, please tell me you don't play Paganini." Alec said.

Isabelle looked at him funnily. "What's wrong with Paganini?"

"I find his pieces whiny and way too melodramatic. I don't care much for him."

"But he's the best!" She insisted.

Alec said, "Maybe so, but the best are often the most popular, and the most popular eventually become overused and boring."

She considered his words. "I won't deny that I prefer Tchaikovsky," she allowed.

"Oh, he wrote _The Nutcracker_ and _Swan Lake_ , didn't he?" Alec asked. "Clary loved the Barbie movies of those two, but she was like, ten, so don't give her a hard time of it."

"What in the world is a Barbie and why would I give Clary a hard time because of it?" Isabelle was curious.

Alec looked scandalised. "Wait, you didn't watch the Barbie movies when you were - oh, right, shadowhunter, my bad. I have to introduce you to it sometime. Still, we'd love to hear you play Tchaikovsky. Where's your violin?"

"It's up in my room, somewhere, I haven't played in years. Jace and I used to try and play a few pieces together before we had our _parabatai_ ceremony, but afterwards it was so much easier to match each other's playing that it got boring. Mom and dad used to say they could hear angels singing when we played after we became _parabatai_ , but we lost the fun we used to get from trying to stay in harmony," she said, making a face. "We used to have the worst fights about who messed up, but we'd always make up in the end. Anyhow, Meliorn's trying to teach me how to play the lyre these days."

"Really? Damn, that is one gorgeous faerie, am I right?" Alec waggled his eyebrows at her.

Isabelle laughed and then gave him a mock glare. "He's a knight of the Seelie Court. They're all gorgeous. It's like a requirement for the job. Believe me, the Seelie Queen loves her eye-candy. And also, back off, he's mine," she said the last part so seriously Alec was slightly taken aback.

"Isabelle, I'm pretty sure if he's into you, he probably isn't into me," Alec reassured her, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Don't be so sure, most faeries are notoriously bisexual," Isabelle informed him curtly.

"First of all, there is nothing wrong with being bisexual. My best friend is bisexual. Also, I hooked up with a pretty, bisexual college boy last week and he was at least an 8.2 on a scale of 1 to 10."

"8.2, that's specific," she noted again.

Alec flashed her a bright smile. "Secondly, if this Seelie Knight does decide to dump you, even in a pathetic attempt to get into the pants of a hottie like yours truly, he doesn't deserve you. What he'd deserve, my friend, is to be stomped on with those six inch heels of yours."

"Seven inches, Alec," she correcteed. "Always remember my motto: nothing less than seven inches. Well, I say motto, it's actually more like the golden rule."

"Don't I know it," he laughed. "On a more serious note, it's almost eleven, I should probably go wake up Clary."

"Absolutely not. _I'll_ go wake Clary up, I need to help her get ready for Magnus Bane's party. You go find Jace and see if he has anything you can borrow."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Alec asked defensively, crossing his arms over his Pokemon t-shirt. It had what appeared to be an extremely dizzy Pikachu on the front.

Isabelle scoffed. "It's a party, not a hipster poetry slam with cartoon fanatics."

Alec gasped dramatically. "It's not a cartoon, Isabelle. It's anime."

"I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

He chuckled, "Yeah, I know, that seems to be the running theme for most of this conversation. Don't worry, I'll introduce you to the joys of the mundane world soon enough. God knows you deserve them, especially considering that you spend your life protecting it."

Isabelle gave him a wide smile and kissed him on the cheek before picking up her heels and bounding in Clary's general direction. 


	6. Revelations Of The Familial Kind

* * *

 

He'd been awake for a couple of minutes when Clary came into the room, looking like someone had died. And then she began telling him the awful truth that just... broke him. It turned everything on it's ear, Valentine, Jace, Luke, Jocelyn, Hodge, the Mortal Cup...

By the time she was finished, Isabelle and Jace had also come to check on him and they looked as shaken as Clary did, as shaken as Alec had no doubt he himself looked.

"He's your brother." Alec repeated blankly, a peculiar expression on his face as he stared at Jace and Isabelle, "And I'm... not. I'm Isabelle's..."

Clary nodded, a lump in her throat. She didn't know what else to say, Alec looked so weak, laying in the hospital bed. Magnus had left the day before not long after healing him from Abaddon's poison, saying that he'd be fine in a couple of days, but by the grey pallor of Alec's face, one would think that Magnus hadn't healed him at all.

The silence stretched on for several long minutes. Alec had closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, "Jace, Izzy. Can you give us a moment, please?"

Jace, also at a loss for words, nodded and left the room with an equally blank look on his face. Isabelle opened her mouth to say something, but Jace, who was holding the door open for her, shook his head and then inclined it in the general direction of the library. She followed him out, the door shut behind them with a soft _thud_.

Alec opened his eyes, exhaled and sat his sister down on the bed with him. "Clary, what happened... the things we've learned... nothing anyone can ever say change anything for us, okay?"

"It doesn't?" she asked uncertainly, looking stunned.

"I've got a new sister, you've got a new brother." Alec sounded very disbelieveing, but at the same time, resigned. "So what? We'll always have each other. Always."

There were still things unsaid between them. Alec avoided the very obvious elephant in the room. The elephant that Clary felt mortified to even think about. That Alec knew but wouldn't bring up because she was literally going to pieces as he said, "Come here, you," and pulled her into his arms. She cried quietly into his shoulder.

 

 

* * *


	7. Kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the SNAFU version of 'Kissed' by Cassandra Clare. Hope you've read the original, it's fantastically written.

* * *

Alec rang the bell and waited with baited breath.

"WHO CALLS UPON THE HIGH WARLOCK?" the speaker boomed. 

Alec cringed. Magnus really needed to work on his volume control. "It's Fray," he informed the warlock breezily, "The one with the blue eyes, not the tiny redhead. Can I come up?"

There was a surprised silence in the air, and then the door was buzzed open. Alec took the stairs two at a time with an easy, fluid grace that came with years of capoeira.

Magnus Bane stood in his open doorway, eyes catching his every step. "Well, well, well. What can I do for you today, Alexander?"

Alec stopped in his tracks and blinked, as if surprised by the question. "Nothing," he said carefully, brow furrowed. "I - I, uh, actually came to thank you." He felt a flush painting his cheeks and was mortified. Alec Fray did not blush. Alec Fray made other people blush. Usually with very little effort.

Magnus raised an eyebrow and then stepped aside to make way for him to walk through the doorway and into the loft. 

"You came to thank me." Magnus repeated, once Alec was inside and he'd shut the door. 

"For saving my life. You know, after Abaddon decided to use me as a personal chew toy." He tried for levity, "Remember that nasty case of demon poisoning that guy Hodge called you to cure a couple of days ago? Yeah, that was me - "

"I know who I treated," Magnus cut him off. "You could have just called. I gave you my number, didn't I? There wasn't really the need to come all the way here from the Institute for that," his arms were crossed over his chest, which did very flattering things for his biceps and also made his shirt ride up just a little bit.

Alec tried to pointedly ignore the strip of tanned skin and look affronted at the same time. "In my humble opinion, if you're going to thank someone for saving your life, it's more courteous to do so face to face rather than over the phone. Give them a handshake, or a hug," his eyes filled with mischief, "maybe a hot make out session damsel-and-hero-style, hey, whatever floats your boat. But maybe that's just me. If you'd prefer, I can just go downstairs and call you and you can pretend to be surprised to hear from me. Or you can throw me onto your bed and fuck me until I - until I can't remember my name. Personally, I prefer option 2," he offered, without missing a beat.

Magnus' cat eyes widened a fraction. "You're a bold one, aren't you?" he noted.

"You've no idea," Alec's voice was more breath than decibels.

"I think I'm starting to get one," Magnus replied and uncrossed his arms.

Alec took that as an invitation and began to shrug out of his jacket. Magnus caught his jacket and held it firmly in place. "Unfortunately," he asserted, "I don't take sex as payment for services rendered."

"Who said it's payment?" Alec retorted playfully, shrugging the jacket off completely, prying it out of Magnus' elegant fingers and letting it fall to the ground. "Maybe I just want to sleep with you," his fingers pressed into Magnus’ forearm, stroking gently.

Magnus raised an eyebrow. "So that's what you came here for?"

Alec chuckled, and then his face became semi-serious. "Magnus, I know you want the same thing I do. This isn't me paying you. I think you're extraordinary and hot as hell. It's really not that complicated." There was lust in his eyes, but there was also something else, not desperation, no, not quite that.

And then Alec took a step forward, chin slightly raised to accommodate the difference between their heights, his lips inches from Magnus'.

His breath was warm, and Magnus caught the scent of cigarette smoke and cinnamon sticks and dark chocolate. He leaned in slowly, giving Magnus enough time to push him away. When their lips met, Alec felt more real than he'd felt since he'd found out the truth. And what a reality it was. Their lips moved together like a meteor strike, hard, fast, explosive, leaving heat in their wake. A hitched gasp burst from Alec as Magnus kissed him deeply, devouringly, tongue battling against his own. One hand went up to Magnus' neck, caressing the warm brown skin while the other at the small of his back, clenching in the fabric of his black T-shirt.

Alec tasted like he smelled, like smoke and cinnamon and chocolate. His mouth was hot and fierce, if Magnus could kiss fire without burning himself, that was what kissing Alec was like. Magnus brought his palm up between them, placed it on Alec's chest and then shoved him back up against the closed door. The warlock followed and caught Alec's cry of surprise with his lips even as he crushed Alec against the hard surface. 

Alec moaned into Magnus' mouth as the kiss roughened, his blood singing in his veins like an allegro. Magnus' hands traced down from his chest to his waist to hips and then settled on the backs of his thighs, curving firmly around them and tugging gently. Never one to miss a hint, Alec leaped up and wrapped his legs around Magnus' waist. His arms went around the warlock's neck as Magnus pressed him even further into the smooth wood at his back and gripped him tight - long, tan, strong fingers digging into his skin and supported his weight.

Alec's fingers wove tightly into Magnus' hair. He tilted his head down to continue kissing him. Magnus bit down on his lip, tongue swiping away the pain in a wash of heat and Alec whimpered. Magnus' lips parted from his, scraped against his ear and then began leaving open-mouthed kisses down his jaw and neck. He stopped just above Alec’s left collarbone, sucking lightly on the skin there and Alec melted in his arms. His head fell back against the door as he panted Magnus' name, and begged, wrecked, " _More,_ "

Magnus froze, coming to his senses. "No." he said.

Alec opened his eyes and looked at him dazedly as he murmured, "What?"

Magnus backed away from the door. He was supported Alec's weight long enough to unwind his legs from around his waist and set him on the ground. Alec swayed slightly. He felt more intoxicated in Magnus’ presence than the first time he’d gotten blackout drunk. His hands still in Magnus’ hair, Magnus’ were still at his hips.

"You're trouble, Alec Lightwood," Magnus stated quietly, letting him go.

Alec stiffened, all traces of lust and passion swept themselves off his face. "That's not my name," he denied, releasing the silky dark locks and taking a shaky step back.

Magnus gave him an indolent look.

"It isn't," Alec insisted casually, straightening out his clothes. "I'm Alexander Cecil Fray. Son of Jocelyn Fray, brother of Clarissa Fray, college student, actor, comic book nerd, otaku, etc. Nowhere on my resumé does it say, 'part of an organization of fascist, racist morons who are half-feathery-winged people,'" he clarified.

Magnus laughed a single laugh, his mouth rebelliously curving into a smile. Alec looked marginally pleased with himself as he swiped his pointer across his lower lip and looked at Magnus with wild eyes.

"I'm still not sleeping with you," Magnus maintained.

Alec raised an eyebrow and huffed in annoyance. "Wow, mixed signals much? You gave me your number, winked and said, 'Call me'. If that's not the definition of, 'hey, let's hook up sometime,' I don't know what is. Also, I could feel your hard-on through your pants," he countered brazenly.

Magnus sighed. "I wasn’t - it's not - I meant – when I gave you my number it meant, ‘let's go out to dinner sometime, you and me, and we'll see what happens after that.’ I wasn’t just trying to get into your pants. Especially not now when you’re…” Magnus didn’t want to say vulnerable. He doubted that Alec would take kindly to that description of him. “… In a bad place. Which I think you are. It can’t have been easy, all the revelations over the last couple of weeks. So, no,” Magnus concluded, “it wasn’t for a random hook up. It was for a date.”

"Oh,” Alec said, looking like someone had pulled Magnus’ gorgeous Persian carpet out from under his feet.

"’Oh’, indeed. Hasn't anyone ever asked you on a date before?"

Alec flushed. "I don't... do dates?" it was phrased like a question.

"You don't do dates." Magnus repeated blankly. He seemed to be doing that a lot that day. "Is that a lifestyle choice or has nobody else had the eyes, the courtesy or the common sense to actually ask you out and get to know you before you do the horizontal tango?"

Alec bit his lip, face becoming redder. "I'm not... I..."

The latter, then, Magnus thought, and then he took pity on Alec. He was, what, seventeen? It wasn't all that unusual that he'd never been on a real date. With gay-bashers prowling the streets and cops and judges looking the other way when they saw hate crimes, it wasn’t like going out on a date as a same-sex couple was entirely safe.

It wasn’t as if being gay and out and walking down the street _not_ on a date was safe.

Magnus remembered Roberto, who worked at the grocery store down the road and indulged Magnus’ ridiculousness the few times he decided to actually give grocery shopping a try instead of just magicking his supplies in. Young and bright-eyed, respectful but no-nonsense Roberto, stabbed to death on his way home one night, just for being gay.

As a warlock, Magnus knew he could protect himself and his potential dates just fine. But Alec, as just a normal guy… He must have been hidden in shadows of the darkest corners of nightclubs and behind closed doors just to feel safe.

"Okay,” Magnus said slowly. “Let’s press pause for a second. I owe you an apology. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just realized - ”

"I think I should go," Alec interrupted evenly. “Maybe this wasn't the best idea." He half-fled to the front door and after some fumbling, managed to get it open.

“Wait,” Magnus ventured, trying one last time to salvage the mess this entire situation had become.

Alec turned to face him, one foot out the door. “What? Seriously, I get it. I’m half-angel, you’re half-demon, whatever the fuck that means. We’re probably not going to work out in the long run because I’m trouble. I’m problematic. I’ve got issues that would take an eternity to deal with.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve got eternity.” Magnus blurted out, and then mentally slapped himself for bringing it up.

Alec looked at him as if he’d lost his marbles, which probably would have been true if he hadn’t already lost them over a century ago. He stepped back into the apartment.

“Is this a joke? Am I missing something?” he demanded, dark-blue eyes filling with muted anger, inky eyebrows knit in a frown.

Magnus pushed forward. “Friday night. Go out with me.”

Alec's mouth fell open into an adorable  _'o'_  of surprise, the frown melting away. For a moment neither of them said anything. Magnus' eyes held Alec's in his gaze.

“Oh,  _seriously_ ,” Alec realized finally. "You're being serious."

“Yes, I am.” Magnus stepped forward and took his hand. “Okay, let’s admit that this entire thing is just a,” he waved his free hand in a general approximation of the hand gesture for the word, ‘catastrophe’, and then continued, “I know you think that this is crazy. I think so, too, a little bit. We’re all fumbling through this ridiculous Valentine situation and there’s almost too much to deal with without the whole potential relationship drama. I get it. We’re a mess. But I think, despite the rocky start, or maybe even because of it, we should give it a shot. We might surprise each other. Hell, we might surprise ourselves.”

He took a breath. “So, Alec Fray, will you go to dinner with me on Friday evening?”

Alec blinked. “Yes?” he breathed.

Magnus gave him a teasing half-smile.

“Yes,” Alec repeated more firmly, flushing again.

“Does seven o’clock work for you?” Magnus asked.

Alec looked apologetic. “Make it eight? I’ve got rehearsal.”

“Eight it is. I’ll pick you up from the Institute.”

“You don’t have to – ” Alec protested, only for Magnus to insist, “I asked you out. I’m picking you up.”

Alec agreed, face breaking out into a grin. “See you on Friday,” he said, and Magnus let go of his hand.

He walked out the door, only to hear Magnus call out, “Alexander, wait,” and he turned around yet again.

But before he could say anything, he saw what Magnus was holding. “You forgot your jacket,” Magnus walked up to him and held it open.

“Thanks,” Alec said sheepishly. He put his arms through the sleeves, pulled it on properly and then faced Magnus again, breath catching as he looked up into Magnus’ gold-green cat eyes. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss him again.

“Friday?” Magnus murmured, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes and breaking the spell he was under.

“Friday,” Alec nodded, and walked out of the apartment. He looked over his shoulder and gave Magnus a gorgeous smile as he made his way down the stairwell.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here. It's queer. I'm going back to bed now.  
> For those of you who don't know it, Roberto Duncanson is a real person who was the victim of a hate crime in Brooklyn in 2007, but the charge of a hate crime against his killer was thrown out by the presiding judge. The representation of him in this chapter is purely fictional, though I'd like to think of it as a homage. It is not meant to offend anyone.  
> It took me an age to write this because I lost inspiration for a while, not gonna lie. Comment so I actually feel motivated and like someone's reading this and not like I've been breaking my head over it for nothing.  
> Cheers!  
> A.S.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a plot bunny that just wouldn't get out of my head no matter what I did.  
> I always got the feeling that Alec, if raised in the mundane world would be an amazing, although totally different person. He's still the Alec we know and love - loyal, brave, loving, determined, passionate and, at times, a total nerd.


End file.
